


Vongola Catacombs

by Bleach_ed_Na_tsu



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Gen, after bosses die, grandfather ninth, grandfather nono, parental!ninth generation, tsuna is the boss, tsuna is the tenth, vongola catacombs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-03-01 01:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,680
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23217112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bleach_ed_Na_tsu/pseuds/Bleach_ed_Na_tsu
Summary: Angels guard the doors, dying will flames burning eternally in their hands, because even in death, the will of the Boss forever burns bright. When a Vongola boss dies, he is put into the catacombs, and every loyal subordinate to fall has a place to rest there, forever lining the hallways of their dead boss final resting place; protecting them even in death. This is where a Boss goes to rest once his reign is done, in Vongola.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 23





	1. And Angels Guard the Doors of the Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> As morbid as it may be, this is something SkyGem and I were discussing the other day and I could not get it out of my head. After all, bosses are so important to their famiglias in KHR that a proper resting place is only expected. So this will be a drabble-type series. I will add different instances where the 'Vongola Catacombs' become a focal point throughout Tsuna's life in this AU. Some will be short, some might be entire fics in their own right. However, I hope you enjor and review.
> 
> This chapter is to lay the scene, of the catacombs, and what is happening in this Au. Because I already want it to be much longer than I intended.

Tsuna had always been morbidly curious about the deaths of Mob Bosses. Even when he was a screeching, terrified fourteen-year old learning about the death of the Ninth's sons, he had curiously wondered where Dons and their families went when they died.

"Well, it differs between famiglia." Timoteo had relented a little solemnly when Tsuna had let his curiosity slip during one of their routine visits together.

It had become a habit after Tsuna moved to Italy. It was earlier than planned. Tsuna and his guardian weren't even eighteen yet. But after the Arcobaleno had been released from their curse, the entire Mafia knew of Tsuna's position. It had started a manhunt, one that had the Ninth frantic.

Tsuna couldn't stand to see the man so worried about him. He was the last heir after all. So when he turned sixteen, half way through high school, Tsuna made the decision to move to Italy and finish his education there. The Ninth was free to watch Tsuna both grow and learn, but also had the freedom of making sure he was protected. Of course, Tsuna didn't go alone.

Hayato hadn't so much as blinked. He was much calmer now than when he and Tsuna first met. After a few years of constant companionship and assurance, the man settled down. He no longer worried about being abandoned by Tsuna, or the others, and had kicked at least most of his self-sacrificial tendencies, though not where Tsuna was concerned. However, the same could be said for all the guardians. In regards to the move to Italy, Hayato had little tie to Japan other than Tsuna and was quick to start planning their move, as well as ensuring Tsuna's Italian lessons, which was an impossibility. As soon as any guardians started learning Italian, they spoke little else in each other's presence, or at least when they weren't conversing in Hayato's G-language or whatever was on the learning itinerary at the time. With all that help, Tsuna eventually learned everything. Hayato had smiled when he asked to join Tsuna to Italy. The brunet boy had replied calmly, but with a quizzical eyebrow. "Well, I thought you coming with me was a given."

Takeshi had been rather indecisive. After all, he was leaving behind his only family. Tsuyoshi had understood his son too well and clapped him on the back. "Now, boy." He had chastised, "Since when do you hesitate?" But of course, Takeshi still did. He would be leaving the only home he ever had, and the only family. So Tsuna sat with Tsuyoshi, he offered him a place within Vongola, or at least in Italy and had been surprised by the pride and approval behind his eyes. Tsuyoshi had agreed to follow Tsuna within the year, the only condition was that Tsuyoshi be able to take up at least a part-time version of his old occupation. His sword technique would be valuable to worthy Vongola members. He had joked that Squalo would enjoy seeing him again. He wondered how the little punk had grown. While it stunned both Tsuna and Takeshi, the rain guardian lost all inhibitions about moving away with Tsuna and the others. The hug Tsuna had received later made him feel much better about talking to Tsuyoshi. "I can't wait to see our new home, Tsuna!"

Mukuro and Chrome had taken a few days to decide. Chrome had felt a pull to stay with the girls and Mukuro had learnt that he felt no comfort far away from Tsuna, even if he wouldn't admit it. They were of one soul really, and though they loathed to be separated, they knew what would make them comfortable. Chrome would remain with the girls, living with the Sasagawas. They were both in a shared room since Kyoko was uncomfortable at home, and Haru had left home years ago. Hana had also joined them. They were close enough to Nana's house so that Tsuna didn't need to worry about whether they were well fed or not, or his remaining siblings and mother. In fact, Chrome had plans to teach the girls about their world, to get them ready for the time they all joined Tsuna. Mukuro went with Tsuna, laughing and taunting all the way, but Tsuna made no comment about the clinginess during the first few months, or the possessive illusions that haunted anyone who got too close.

Kyouya had been very adamant that he would not be going with Tsuna, at least immediately. He had a responsibility to Namimori, to protect it. Though he had moved on from ensuring the security of the schools, the entire town knew that Kyouya wasn't to be messed with. They also knew that he protected them. Tsuna understood that Kyouya couldn't possibly leave without someone powerful enough to protect the town in his absence. Tsuna told Kyouya this, and the man had scoffed. "Don't misunderstand me. I will join your herd once I have made sure my committee will run without me for a while. But Namimori will always be my base. Do not forget that or I will bite you to death." Tsuna had grinned like a loon. Kyouya had cooled over the years. He wasn't so ferocious now that he had six people always willing to spar with him, or at least three who could make him sweat and the rest who were willing to fight through the lessons he gave. It made the interesting interactions that Tsuna loved. Kyouya didn't pull punches (conversational or in battle) and Tsuna always knew where he stood with the man. Tsuna always knew that Namimori would be Kyouya's home, but to know that he was willing to follow Tsuna, warmed something in him.

Ryohei had taken the longest to decide. He had been out of school and learning the ways of a healer and representative for almost two years by this time and was taking it in stride. He was as loud and brash as ever, still leaking sun flames when he wasn't concentrating, but he had taken a note from Takeshi's book. Now he could hide his exuberance in meetings and whenever it pleased him, looking more like a hitman or a member in the Mafia –with his scars and broadness– than even Hayato when he was dressed to the nines. In the end, after talking with this sister and convincing Kyoko and Haru to move in with Chrome, he actually went to Italy ahead of Tsuna. He said he was running observation, making sure _he_ knew the dangers and exits before letting his boss arrive. Hayato had looked extremely proud of the older man.

Lambo was hysterical from the moment Tsuna told the boy he was to stay. At seven, the child was opinionated, passionate, and had already determined that he was going with Tsuna. His big brother, almost father figure, had talked him down from the hysterics, but it took weeks before Lambo agreed that he was being silly. Tsuna reminded the boy every day that he was never going to be replaced. Tsuna still cried when he left Lambo, pressing a kiss to his forehead and promising to come back for him soon. Lambo cried for months. It was only when he was twelve some six years later that he was allowed to move to Italy permanently with I-pin on his tail. Until that time, Lambo fought and learned and came into his own, making his brother-father proud. The reunion had been tearful. "Welcome home, Lambo." Returned with, "I'm home, Baka-tou-san."

Fuuta was the wildcard. Tsuna had assumed that the child would remain in Japan with his two adopted siblings and his adopted mother. However, once he learned that Tsuna was leaving for an undisclosed amount of time, a grim look had dominated his face. He had been adamant, as sad as it was, that he belonged beside Tsuna no matter where he went. His ties, while strong with Nana and I-pin, were strongest with Tsuna and Lambo. Fuuta was Vongola now, and he saw Tsuna as far more than a brother to him. When Tsuna had begged him to think it over, maybe even consult the ranking star for the best course of action, Fuuta had smiled with a curve of his lips far too wizened for a twelve year old. "I don't need the star to know that I need to remain with you, Papa-Tsu." The title was mostly a joke, but as Tsuna passed eighteen years, Fuuta would begin calling him by that title more often, confusing not only the young man, but also much of the mafia. However, Tsuna couldn't argue after that.

All of this, of course, led to a mass movement. Nana remained in Japan with I-pin and Lambo, and Iemitsu –thank fucking god, because Tsuna wasn't sure he could handle having to see his face every day – remained in Japan to help the woman cope. Almost three years later, he was still there. The CEDEF had a new base built and it was working well, seeing as Vongola's influence in Japan was rising with the new heir's heritage broadcasted and well known through the Mafia.

Everyone else, except Nana and Iemitsu, joined Tsuna in their twenties. Lambo moved when he turned twelve, adamant that if Fuuta was allowed to move at that age, he was too.

This all ended up sailing smoothly, and after eight months of awkward conversations, many embarrassing moments of asking for directions (in and outside the mansion), and a few rather nasty spars, everyone was mostly settled into a routine. Each guardian had lessons with the Ninth's guardians and with Reborn and the other Arcobaleno. They often relaxed in their own private wing. Tsuna and the Ninth had also developed a repertoire of trust and respect. Tsuna trusted the Ninth to lead him correctly, to withhold nothing that would harm Tsuna's growth or family. The Ninth respected Tsuna's opinions and ideals and that the boy would listen to everything the Ninth had to say, regardless of said opinion.

Which was why Tsuna was comfortable enough to ask the man about what happened to Bosses and their famiglia once their reign was done.

"I didn't realise it was such a big deal." Tsuna mused aloud, sipping on the expresso that had been brought in somewhere between talking about how the Shimon famiglia was doing and how expensive clothing had gotten.

"Oh my child," the Ninth had exasperated, "Do you still not realise how important we are to our family?" Tsuna obviously didn't if the confusion marring permanently golden-brown eyes was anything to go by. "We are the guardians of the guardians. We run not only the famiglia, but also the emotions and bonds within it. When a boss comes into power, prior subordinates make a gruesome decision about whether to bow out of the family or take on a new boss. Even then, a lot of the time their loyalties are laid with the previous boss, and their decision to stay stemmed from wanting to protect the prior ideals."

Tsuna was shocked. He had no idea that he had such importance to his famiglia. But thinking of the times that training or a battle had laid him up in a hospital, it was a wonder he hadn't seen it before. Whenever he was released, or woke up from a long sleep, the relief in his family's faces were so deep that they seemed to be carved there forever. The stories of strife amongst the ranks of his guardians made his soul hurt. The memories from ten years in a future that would never happen had Tsuna regretting that he didn't see it before.

He was the centre of his family, of his guardians, of his friends. He supposed it would make sense that when a Boss died, they were paid the utmost respect.

"So what happens to Vongola Bosses?" Tsuna finally asked, looking into the brown eyes of the Ninth. The man looked pleased. Tsuna could only think it was because he finally realised at least a little more of his worth.

"They go into the catacombs, child. Come," the man said as he stood. "Let us take a walk. I suppose it's about time you meet your predecessors."

* * *

The walk was a long one, almost twenty minutes from the mansion. They trailed through ruins of old buildings and gardens, feeling the calmness of the trees that made up the acreage of the Vongola estate. They walked silently, not that Tsuna minded. He took in the sights and the directions so that he could learn the lay of his land should anything demand that skill.

The Ninth didn't explain much. However, when they made it to the clearing, Tsuna was surprised to see the lines of angels and doorways scattered amongst the field. They stretched long and far. Tsuna had expected the Ninth to start with the one closest to them, but he instead led the brunet down an unobvious path to a dirt hole in ground farthest from the mansion.

"This, Tsunayoshi will be your catacomb one day." And the thought had Tsuna's mouth drying. He shouldn't be surprised. With his coronation less than two years away –on his twentieth birthday– he knew that measures must be made for his death.

"So soon." It wasn't a question, and the Ninth knew this.

"It would have been built already, had my sons taken my place when they should have." He was sad, but accepting. It had been almost ten years already, but grief had a way of settling to a dull throb in that time. "This is my catacomb."

Tsuna's breath left his lungs as his eyes rested upon the entrance. It was grand. The doorway was made of stone, a medium grey and formed a small room above ground. However, for all the beauty of the stone work and design –for the Ninth's emblem stood out bright and large on either of the side of the walls– it was the sentinel that drew Tsuna's awe. An angel guarded the door. It was a young man dressed not in swaying fabrics, but a military style uniform that Tsuna recognized amongst the Ninth's subordinates. One hand was holding a spear that crossed the top left side of the door way, and the other hand held out to the side as if holding or catching something. It seemed out of place, and unbalanced. The Ninth seemed to recognize this and drew Tsuna's gaze to the nearest catacomb to the left.

"Each tomb has two sentinels, my boy. They are not just any statue though, but the most loyal of all subordinates." He grew very sorrowful here, his voice tight as he brought Tsuna back to his own catacomb. "This young man here was the first man to lay down his life for me, Anthony. He died at my inheritance ceremony when an assassin thought he could get lucky. He died in my arms, a grin on his face. He was the one to train me before my mother died. He was twenty nine."

Tsuna was silent for a long time, watching the man who saved his grandfather's life. It was sobering, but it made sense. Nothing seemed more right than the first person to die for a boss to be given the honour of guarding his tomb. But that begged the question of why only one stood guard of such a sacred place.

"When I am dead, I will be laid here." the Ninth continued, "And the last man or woman to die for _my_ ideals and rein will join Anthony to guard my place. Then, when I am finally sleeping, they will hold my flame in their hands, a proof of my resolve in life and death."

Tsuna didn't comment on the tears in the Ninths eyes and the current Vongola boss returned the favour of Tsuna's own tears. Instead, they walked down the stairs and into the hallway lit with bulbs and stagnant with damp air. Tsuna watched as they walked, as the faces of men and women lined the path towards the end. At their feet were urns and Tsuna knew that the people buried here were buried with pride. Tsuna instinctively knew that each one of these people had served the Ninth well. Each one had earned a place amongst their boss and guardians. Each one was to be respected.

When they reached the end of the path, Tsuna was amazed by the sheer size of the room. It was oval in shape, with seven alcoves lining the walls on the far side. In the centre, directly before the door, was a stone throne. Tsuna noted, as the Ninth gestured for him to explore, that every alcove had a large hole in the centre, large enough for a coffin, Tsuna realised.

"My guardians and I will rest here when we pass." The Ninth smiled softly as he watched Tsuna explore and noted the amount of respect Tsuna blessed the room with as he walked around with pride. "All immediate family rest here with us. Wives have a place here too, unless their wills speak otherwise. My own wife decided she wished to return home, and I could not help but respect that."

Tsuna listened, but he stopped before the throne and frowned, he did this because of the three, large, stone blocks that lay at its feet. He knew instinctively who they were. Bowing on his knee before them, he kissed his fingers and pressed them to each box.

"Rest well, Cousins mine." Because no matter their actual relation, Tsuna saw these men as more than distant uncles. They were brothers in the Mafia and cousins in such a close family. Tsuna thought of Xanxus as the same, despite the fact that the man as old enough to be his uncle.

The young boss knew he had done right by the boys because the Ninth's shoulders had bunched up when Tsuna stopped by the three resting places were now resting easy again. "Come, Tsunayoshi."

Standing and brushing his light, suit pants, Tsuna followed after the aged boss. Walking out into the light was startling. Tsuna had to blink back tears as the light assaulted him. When he was adjusted, Tsuna watched as the Ninth gave a final look at his catacomb. Tsuna felt obligated to look at his own.

Grass was just about growing over the large expanse. He knew that the underground section must have been completed very recently. The entrance, he knew, couldn't have been completed until very recently after his coronation. After all, he couldn't officially develop his insignia until his coronation. It was morbid, but Tsuna thought that he would spend much time at his catacomb once it was built, if for no other reason than to respect every life given to him.

He wished with all his heart that he could realistically say his catacomb would have the least amount of guards, but he couldn't. There was no way for him to ensure all of his subordinates' safety, especially when he was aiming to turn the mafia around.

"Come, Tsunayoshi. You have much to see."

Tsuna followed, but as he stopped before the Eighth boss' tomb, the Ninth continued to walk. "Nono?"

"I have seen these many-a-time, my dear boy. Now it is your turn to walk in peace." the Ninth explained, "I have explained all I think is necessary, so if you have more questions, see me when you are done." The Ninth smiled softly at Tsuna curious expression. "I shall tell the staff to keep a meal aside for you. Do not worry, I shall not let your guardians worry too much."

With that, the Ninth started to slowly walk away, leaving Tsuna in the centre of the glade amongst stone angels and dying will flames.

* * *

Given the time between the Eight's death and now, her tomb was completed long ago. While it was obvious that each tomb was cleaned regularly, the wear –though minor– was obvious on the wingtips of the angels that stood guard.

Vongola Ottavo's flames were soft. There was the bite of dying will, but the softness there was a motherly instinct within the will that called out to Tsuna's. It was the first time Tsuna had met a sky flame of a Mother and it was intense. But it lit the angels with a soft hue. It burned with a steadiness Tsuna had not witnessed in any other. He wondered if it was the will of a mother, or of Ottavo herself.

As Tsuna walked into the Guardian's dome at the end of the tomb, he was curious to find that five out of Octavo's six guardians were female. While Tsuna knew for a fact that the Mafia viewed women with a kind of reverend awe –especially born and bred mafia women and wives– they were still viewed with a kind of dominant patriarchal view. That was to say, daughters were still wed off like cattle, and women were raped and killed to teach men a lesson. So given this, it made Tsuna inexplicably happy to see a room full of women, all of whom looked as terrifying and gorgeous as any of the guardians whose portraits lined the mansion.

It also made Tsuna just a little more settled on yet another change he had thought about bringing about within Vongola. Women, while he was in power, were to be treated equal to men.

Tsuna took his time strolling through Settimo to Trezo's tombs. Each one he paid extreme respect to. He was saddened to see that almost each boss had at least one casket in their tomb. Each boss had lost one child before the end of their reign. Quatro lost two boys, Settimo lost four. Only Octavo and Sesto had no caskets. Each boss had a hard life and it made Tsuna's gut twist. It made Tsuna want to destroy the walls of the mansion. That mansion was built on the blood of the children of the bosses. Tsuna refused to lose a son or daughter to this world, even if he knew again that this was going to be a promise was almost impossible to keep.

Secondo's tomb was a quiet affair. Tsuna knew this was the change in Vongola. This was the closest Tsuna was going to get to seeing the original Vongola in its entirety. Tsuna felt so many emotions walking past the sentinels of the Second boss. They were both young boys, eyes closed, and hands full of flames of wrath that poured to the ground and lit the stone in a fierce red-orange. Tsuna had to wonder what happened as he passed group upon group of loyal family members. As he understood it, Secondo was raised beside Primo, within his family, as a distant cousin and first son of the First boss. So he couldn't understand why Secondo led them into such a bloodbath of a history, or how Secondo's descendants could follow on. That brought Tsuna to Secondo and his guardians. The man sat in his throne, lazily and with little care for posture. His guardians stood like gargoyles at his sides, and at his feet were three boxes. It made Tsuna's gut churn.

Now that Tsuna had made his way through all but one of the tombs, he realised something. Secondo had many subordinates lying with him, but they were all very young. Some seemed as young as Fuuta and the oldest, Tsuna had observed, was no older than Kyouya at twenty. It was unnerving and sad. The Ninth, on the other hand, had barely any one in his tomb below the age of thirty. The youngest, perhaps, was his own son, who was twenty three at the time of his death and the oldest looked as if he were in his sixties.

Tsuna imagined that both Primo and Tsuna himself would follow after Secondo with their subordinates. The Ninth was part of both a long regime and a long standing way of life. But in relative terms, Primo, Secondo, and Tsuna would have all brought in a new age for the Vongola. Tsuna was almost sure already, that while the men and women in the Ninth's squads would never harm him, they would not be _Tsuna's_ subordinates. No, Tsuna was bringing in a regime that the Mafia would not like, and thus, _his_ people would be young and new, and open to their Boss' ideals.

It was a truly sad thought. It hurt to think like this already. But even before his reign was to begin, Tsuna knew he was in for a tough time convincing his family of his vision.

With that thought, Tsuna moved onto the final catacomb. Primo's tomb stood out among the rest, but for the worst reasons. Tsuna knew immediately that Primo wasn't here. He knew this tomb was not for respect but for show, a memorial rather than a tomb.

His two angels stood out, grinning to each other across the threshold, their hands lacking the beautiful flame that Tsuna had seen in memory and dreams. The stone was worn away, but it was obvious that it was cleaned most often and most carefully. It looked as close to new as something four-hundred-some-years old could look. As soon as he stepped into the tomb, a chill pressed against him. Without the flame feeding the walls and lighting the air, the chill of Italian soil was one of the few to make Tsuna's breathe visible. Tsuna hadn't noticed the chill of the night settling in and he realised that the will of the Bosses wasn't just there to decorate the hands of angels, but to signify the life of occupants, to remind all visitors that while they were dead, they had died for a cause, and that the cause burnt brightly.

It made the subordinates that lined the hallways so eerie and lonely. Their boss never came home.

After a walk that seemed to take an eternity, the guardians stood before Tsuna. All of them stood with their weapons, closer than all the statures that followed them, to their boss. They looked more like a portrait. Their sanctum was smaller, less ornate, and much cruder than even Secondo's crypt. Tsuna could tell, and pride fluttered in his chest, that Giotto put time and money into the statues and resting places of his subordinates rather than himself.

 _Very much like Primo_ , Tsuna thought.

He continued to walk around the room, taking in every detail of every guardian, he touched the hand of each one, a silent prayer in his mind and thanks given to them. He hoped, somehow, his will and thoughts transferred through his rings to the men.

Tsuna almost choked when he looked over to Daemon's place. While every other casket within the guardians' chambers stood before the boss, this casket sat at Daemon's feet. The man wasn't looking out at Tsuna, as all the other guardians of all the other boss had. No, his eyes were glued to the casket. The statues' faces may have been a smoother version of its usual smirk, but Tsuna could feel the flames in the man burning with fury even now. The casket was Elena's, his one love who was killed for no good reason and started a trickle of horror and pain.

In fact, looking now, Primo's tomb wasn't just slightly different from all the others. It was vastly different. Each of Primo's guardians –except Daemon– looked towards Primo rather than towards the guests of the tomb. Primo himself gazed out at the guest with a smirk on his face. Each guardian held a pocket watch in their hands, and Daemon's, at the end of the oval, was lit with a sparkling mist flame.

All of this struck Tsuna hard in the chest and he lowered himself to the floor at Giotto's feet, as if he were still a child and his grandfather had called him over.

Tsuna sat before the Primo generation graves for a while longer. He didn't care about the dust on his suit or the stagnant air that felt almost like a strangling hold. He stared the statues of the first generation and couldn't help but feel a deep sadness. Each one represented each guardian perfectly. Even Giotto, sitting in his throne seemed to embody the entirety of the man's history. However, though the stone flames represented his power, there was no power there. Tsuna knew that these ruins were the memorial of the man.

He had heard, from Timoteo, before the man left Tsuna to his wanderings, that Daemon was the only guardian laid to rest in Primo's tomb. Though he had been a guardian for Secondo, the Boss had known where Daemon's first and true loyalties lay and couldn't bring himself to make the man rest forever more in his own catacomb. It gave Giotto's angels something to guard, but their boss would never come home.

It hurt to think about that. Tsuna couldn't imagine the horror in his soul if he were buried elsewhere while his subordinates waited for him. It made him wonder why someone hadn't done something about it.

Perhaps, he mused as he ran his hands over Giotto's stone face, he was the only one that understood. They were two men born into normal families and living difficult lives, who weren't used to the idea of someone giving their lives over to them. Tsuna knew that no matter his wish now to be buried in his home land one day, he would be adamant about laying to rest within the Vongola catacomb that was already in construction for him. It made Tsuna resolute in a way he hadn't been before.

He bowed before Primo, lighting his ring in a soft orange flame. A promise to the soul within his ring that he knew was listening.

"I promise to bring you home, Grandfather." Tsuna whispered in solemn tones. "You and your guardians, I will bring you home." Then turning to the lines of men and women who guarded the walk to the Primo generation's resting room, Tsuna bowed. "Thank you for your hard work, I will bring your Bosses home."

And Tsuna knew he would keep this promise. He knew Giotto would never truly rest until his body was where it should be. With the famiglia that gave everything for him.


	2. First One Home

"Good morning, Eric." Tsuna's voice was warm and smooth with the tenor he had grown comfortable with in his twenty six years. Tsuna's eyes burned as he held the stone hand before him.

Eric stood with glorious wings, a cheeky grin on his face; ageless now. He held a spear above the doorway in which he stood, crossing the top corner, and one day another would stand beside him and their spears would cross. He wore just a shirt and slacks, and looked far more human than any of the other ethereal angels guarding tombs in blowing wraps and gowns. The man's hand sat open, with long fingers, at his chest and Tsuna lit his flames within the hand.

They wouldn't last long, without Tsuna's body and soul in the catacombs, but there was something about seeing Eric with a hand full of Tsuna's flames that made Tsuna proud to have chosen the man to stand guard for him one day.

* * *

_~~Three Years Earlier. Tsuna: 23 years old.~~_

The news had come to Tsuna on the quiet whispers of a messenger one day when Tsuna was only twenty three. The boy was all big eyes and a sorrowful brow. He gripped his report until it was just about ripped in two, and Tsuna knew why when the words left his lips.

"Sir, I am loathed to be the one to tell you this, sir." He was stuttering, and Tsuna practically smelt the tears on the boy's flames. "I am so sorry, sir."

And suddenly the sorrowful roaring in the back of Tsuna's intuition made sense. "Who?"

"Eric Thompson, Sir. He was confirmed dead this morning."

Cold. Tsuna's flames burned cold for a moment as they practically died out in the brief burst of grief that Tsuna felt anytime someone died.

Tsuna was nodding though, because the boy's flames were clotting and sobbing and Tsuna's own flames were barely controllable (when they came back) because of it. "How, what happened Simone?"

The boy's head bowed. "Eric was on leave for the weekend, Decimo sir, it was his first break in almost a year. So he and his boys (squad seven-beta-three, in case you forgot) went into the town for some dinner and drinks."

Tsuna knew all about that squad, it was one of the ones he felt no qualms about sending out. It was a squad of multiple flames so that they could be versatile. Tsuna nodded for the boy to continue, his voice fast and high, nervous, and tired, and sad all at once.

"His boys said that everything was great, Eric hadn't even drunk anything –he was the designated driver –when hell broke loose. These men, from the mafia (some small famiglia you drive out years ago) rushed in." The messenger kept babbling. "Eric and the boys acted right away fighting and punching and killing these men. But they tried to take the girls, they said they'd be good whores, they'd make back all that the Vongola had stolen from the famiglia."

Cold fury pierced through the room as Kyouya grew irate.

"And Eric couldn't stand for it, he fought so hard, boss." The boy was openly crying now, "My Aniki fought really hard. He saved all the girls, he kept them safe I swear. Not one was hurt or taken." And he sobbed loudly. "But they shot him. Those cowards shot him from behind, they'd been fist fighting up until that point. But they shot him in the back! He fought, boss. Aniki fought to live. He's been in hospital for two weeks, fighting to live."

Then the boy whispered, "He wanted to come home, boss. But he couldn't. They got him in the lungs."

Something thick and physical formed in Tsuna's throat and his eyes burned as if they were actually on fire. So he just nodded, he hoped he didn't seem cold. But the smile on the boy's face told Tsuna that the boy understood his pain. The boy left and Tsuna let himself fold onto the desk. Kyouya and Hayato stepped up quickly, a hand on each shoulder as they let their sky grieve privately for this moment. It didn't matter that Hayato and Kyouya were only in the same room because it was Hayato's turn to guard Tsuna and the paperwork for the day and Kyouya was bored out of his skull, right now their sky was grieving.

They would grieve later, their sky would see to that, but right now he needed it.

They, and all the guardians not present, felt the sheer _overwhelming_ rush of confusion and pain that wafted over their bond. They all knew it hurt Tsuna like nothing they would ever comprehend without losing one of their own, for someone –the first man (a brother, son, father, uncle, nephew _**person**_ ) to die for Tsuna.

It didn't take long for Tsuna to get over his grief, oh it still burned him, but his eyes were molten with resolve and pain and pride. Eric had been a good man.

A gift from the Ninth's own choosing, a gift on his coronation, Eric had been warm and bubbly, he had come to Tsuna at twenty three, already married for five years and with two beautiful children. It was apparent from the beginning that he and the crew he arrived with were all fathers and uncles, or mothers and aunts.

Tsuna suspects that was exactly what the ninth had intended.

"Hayato, gather the council. It's time my catacomb got its first guardian." And Hayato could only smile, because this was both a hard and easy decision, and he was proud that Tsuna didn't wallow in the grief.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It didn't take long either, for the council to gather. Unlike the war council (made of a representative from Shimon, Cavallone, Varia, foundation, and Millifiore) the Vongola council was made of the elder guardians, and experts in various fields, depending on the nature of the meeting. This time of course, was architectural and historical.

"I have decided on who the first man in my catacomb will be." Tsuna said even before he was sat completely. His voice caused eyes to find his, and they pitied him.

When had Tsuna _ever_ needed pity?

"I am sorry, Tsuna." The Ninth's voice washed over him, full of the harmony of another sky who felt the burn of a death of its own. "I did not know that you had been attacked."

"Why _didn't_ we know you had been attacked? Let alone that someone had died." Somehow or another (at the Ninth's insistence unfortunately) Iemitsu was allowed in these council meetings. Another voice, another perspective apparently.

Kyouya, actually, rolled his eyes and spoke next. "The Omnivore wasn't attacked. He said that he had chosen his sentinel, no one said that he had been attacked." Kyouya loathed dealing with the council, and if his huffed _'I could bite them all to death, arrogant old farts'_ was anything to go by, he wouldn't be here if he weren't so attached to this cause.

"Then who do you mean, boy?" Visconti growled, old and crotchety the man was.

So Tsuna explained, blazing eyes and conviction. "One of the men you sent to me, Grandfather." Tsuna explained, "He died two days ago after complications with a gun-shot wound."

There was a laugh, and a puff of incredulous anger. "You mean the brawler?" It was Schnitten, eyebrow bowed. "We know about him, his fight brought problems down on our necks."

Takeshi growled then, stepping forward and brining attention away from Tsuna. "The fallout from the _brawl_ is none of your concern. We, the Decimo, are handling it."

A rush of unease flowed through the old men who made the council. It was well known amongst the Vongola and their allies that the Decimo took great care to listen to their elders, but that they would not listen if they thought that the council's suggestions had even the slightest chance of leading the Vongola back to blood.

Tsuna's friends in other famiglias found it utterly amusing, but understandable. They were similar. It was the old bloods (as with all the old bloods before them) found it disconcerting and rude.

"He isn't worth the position, Decimo." The voice was deep and condescending, Coyote, and the world crashed around the words. Shouts echoed, but apparently only Tsuna could hear it. "We will _maybe_ put him in the catacomb, but he does not deserve to be a sentinel."

There was nothing that Tsuna did more than respect his elders, but he had learnt from Reborn that elders were to be respected, but not blindly followed.

Tsuna was no sheep.

Tsuna slammed his hands on the table and all eyes were on him. It was a testament to his ire that he had actually use physical force to get the attention of those in the room. Usually his sheer presence did that, at this point Tsuna's flames did the talking for him, and no one could ignore the choking sky.

"He is." Tsuna's voice was harsh, a tone he rarely took, and it spoke thousands of words to the few uttered.

And the Ninth's guardian, Coyote, stood tall, eyes hard. "Are you trying to mock the others who have earned their position outside the Boss tombs, Tsunayoshi?" his voice was seething, and Tsuna's guardians bristled in reply.

"He was a boy who died in a _brawl_. How _dare_ you suggest that he is worth the honour, you are petu-."

And then the room went cold, Brownie had snapped his jaw shut at the sheer force of the flames. It was a cacophony. All the flames clashed and melded, Tsuna's harmony acting as a catalyst for the power. It quelled the council that forgot that they were there only because Tsuna allowed them to be.

"He died for my ideals, Coyote." Tsuna rumbled, "You are the mafia and you standards are high. Your loyalties lie merely with the visible sacrifice of a subordinate for your lives. But I am not so shallow. Your men are truly honourable, and they deserve their place, I agree with that. But I choose what honours me, and Eric has more than paid his dues. He died for something your men wouldn't even _think_ about dying for. Your men would have allowed those women taken, because they were off duty, and what a few more _whores_ , eh?"

People pitched back from Tsuna ire, because the waves of flames burnt them. The guardian's eyes blazed with colour, acknowledging their Sky's thoughts and decisions. If anything should have quelled the council, it should have been the very open, **unanimous** decision of the new generation.

But it didn't, apparently.

"You're a _boy_. I can't accept you letting a mere _drunk_ be noted in our histories."

And it was Lambo who stood then, green eyes burning neon as his flames toned his voice. A thousand time jumps aging him. "If your own drunkard, _Iemitsu_ is going down in history for leading CEDEF so well, than our man of honour will too. At least our man honoured our boss and was sober when he died."

Voices rose again while Tsuna pleaded his case. Really it shouldn't matter; it wouldn't in fact. If Tsuna truly decreed that Eric would be his first sentinel, the council had no true sway. But a vindictive council could slander the history books before Tsuna could intervene, and Tsuna wouldn't stand for it.

But this was supposed to be a very intimate occasion. When Tsuna and the Ninth has spoken softly about this honour and pain, it had been fanciful and weighty. Tsuna had hoped to speak as softly now, honour this man who died simply because he felt as strongly as Tsuna did about getting out of the mafia, and the inherent innocents of those they protected.

But instead he was fighting the Council who tried to _slander_ a dead man. Tsuna wanted to cry for every breath that he wanted to roar with fire. It was killing him to think that his last memories of Eric would be the Ninth generation and his father spitting vulgarities about his honour.

The Ninth, frail and concerned, put a hand to Coyote's arm. And like with Tsuna (on a normal day) silence descended on the room. Weak now with age and exhaustion he spoke. "Unfortunately, my friend, you must step down on this endeavor."

"But Timot-."

But the Ninth shook his head. "No, friend." He sighed. "This is the bosses will, and as much as you make and break us, you elements will never understand the strain of sky flames on a matter as delicate as this."

So Coyote bowed and the sculptor that Reborn had called in stepped forward. "I shall get to work immediately, Decimo. I am honoured to be chosen for this task, and I shall honour this man." He was a wiry man full of that sadness that came from respect of the dead. "Is there any design you have in mind?"

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

With that settled, and designs in the making, Tsuna put the making on hold. The design he would keep, for he had imagined the entrance to his tomb many times. But the face would have to wait.

After all, Eric had a family. A warm, large family who loved him dearly and missed him _maybe_ more than Tsuna. They probably had a plot for him, with his ancestors, and Tsuna would never force them to give Eric's body over.

If they truly detested the thought of the ex-vigilante resting with Tsuna, Tsuna would relent.

He hoped they wouldn't though.

When a young woman opened the door, Tsuna was not surprised. He knew all about the young man's family he was meeting. Eric was a husband young, and had three young children now. Tsuna had already put measure in place to ensure that they were cared for. However, Eric had told Tsuna once upon a time that they lived with his brother's family and that no one was left behind.

That soothed Tsuna.

Tsuna knew about the lives of as many of the people who did his work as he possibly could. It was the least he could do. His sky flames purred for every new piece of information about _his own_ that he learnt, and it spurred Tsuna to learn more and more.

"D-Don Vongola!" The woman was teary-eyes with relief, because she was also known to Tsuna. Before he was Don, before everyone knew his name, Andrea, had made Tsuna feel comfortable in the mansion that they'd moved into.

"Andrea, you know better than that." Tsuna admonished ever so softly, and he opened his arms in a way that Andrea craved. Someone who hurt like her, but also felt proud.

"He was such a good man, Tsunayoshi." She cried, and she cried. Tsuna let a tear slip, because he felt all of a sudden like being here was both an insult and a praise.

"He was." Tsuna agreed, holding this woman close. "Which is why I'm here."

Xxxxxxxxxxxx

Tea was served as Tsuna and Andrea sat, the children were all tangled on a pile of pillows in the corner. They were red-eyes and tear-tracked. Finally settling down only when Takeshi had crawled into the pile with them and let his flames work magic.

The other guardians were stationed around the room, and it flooded with the protective _wow_ of their flames. Thus was a home of _theirs_ , and their own had children living among the walls. It was enough to make all of these guardians protective.

"I am so proud of Eric." Was the first thing that Tsuna said once all had been settled, it was unquestionable that Tsuna was sorry, that he loathed to be here, to share news and grief. Both knew that Tsuna would have saved everyone if he could. Now was a time for pride and thankfulness.

"As was I, Tsuna. He was a g-good man. He was a better father." And the tears and quaking voice sent Tsuna's flames simmering. "He loved you so, and I am sure that he is kicking himself for dying in that brawl, and that he isn't able to stand by you anymore."

By the end Andrea was sobbing openly, and Chrome –who had been sitting beside her –held her hand and pressed her head to the woman's.

So Tsuna steeled himself, feeling the eyes of his guardians on him, giving him strength. "He did me a great service, if I could see him now I'd clip him on the ear for dying on me, but that brawl was anything but stupid. He protected lives, just as I would have in his place. He saved a young family from a horrible future and I couldn't be prouder." Tsuna voice warbled, "And that is why I am asking you this."

"There is a tradition, in the Vongola, Andrea." Ryohei explained softly, his eyes were almost molten yellow as his flames flooded him as usual. "It's long standing and precious."

And so they started to explain to this grieving woman exactly what this tradition was.

From Hayato, she learnt about the Nono and his two sentinels.

Chrome told her stories of Ottavo's guards, and the trials that gave them the honour of guarding her tomb.

Lambo's voice didn't waver as he gave Settimo's sentinels their time.

Takeshi knew the most about the sixth boss, and so he was the one who explained the reasoning behind those chosen for the sixth boss' tomb.

Ryohei was solemn as he spoke of Quinto's guards, and the many in the tomb that they guarded.

Kyouya wove a quick tale about Don's Quatro and Trezo, about their sentinels and how they died and earned their spot.

Mukuro was the one to tell her about Secondo, and the honour he gave Daemon, as well as his two guards.

And finally, Tsuna explained the beginning of the tradition, and all that Primo stood for. He told Andrea his intentions to bring Giotto and his guardians back to Italy so that they could be protected. With all his flames and words, and eyes burning like magma, Tsuna tried to get the sheer pain that he as a boss felt, knowing that one of his own never came home. He tried to get Andrea to understand exactly why it was a travesty that Primo didn't come home.

Tsuna wanted her to understand how important it was for Tsuna to have Eric guard his tomb, Tsuna needed this almost more than Eric would have wanted it.

This was the first man to die for him.

And that thought alone almost choked Tsuna completely. As it was, half way through explaining the sheer need Tsuna had, he cut himself off to cough out a sob.

"With his sacrifice, Eric has shown everyone exactly what it is I live for. He will be my constant level to measure myself against. Eric is the first one to die for me."

"But…..Eric _didn't_ die for you." She insisted, trying to believe what she was hearing. Because of course she knew what tradition Tsuna was talking about. She'd heard whispers of it, but had never heard the first story. From what these men said, from the stories they had told, Eric had not done his duty to deserve to even lie _within_ Tsuna's catacomb, let alone guard it.

If Eric were alive –which obviously would defeat the point –he would have fallen over and practically kissed Tsuna on the mouth in gratitude.

Eric always boasted about Tsuna. About what a good boy he was, a great father he would make, how much Eric had wished they met in other lives so they could have been friends.

Eric had dreamed quietly of one day guarding Tsuna with his life. And now, Andrea quietly cried for her late husband. Because now he would guard Tsuna even after life, the most auspicious position any member of Tsuna's Vongola could wish for.

"But he did." Tsuna insisted, eyes true and burning with these tearful orange hues that swam as he spoke. "He did in a way I hope to die one day, protecting innocents. I started my rule of Vongola with the determination to destroy everything the mafia stood for, to bring back a time of righteous families that protect those they care about. Eric didn't die for me, Andrea, but he died for all that I stand for."

Tsuna stood and bowed his head, tears gathering in his eyes as he asked the best and worst of this grieving mother and widow.

"And that is why, I want to honour him. I want him to guard my Will for the rest of eternity, for that is how long it will burn. I want to honour him, as he has honoured _**me**_ and _**mine**_. I want to welcome Eric home now."


	3. Let the Rain, finally fall silent

Tsuna sat down with a gentle sigh, listening to the shouts and calls of his guardians. They were all looking for the same thing and seemed to be having a good time doing it. It had been a good few hours since they'd arrived, and Tsuna decided that he should just let his guardians have his fun.

"Though I'm sorry, Asari. It is probably not the most respectful thing to do in a cemetery."

While in Japan, Tsuna had done some digging. He had taken archives, and birth and death certificates, gone to old city halls and even spoken to neighbors whose families had never left their little villages. Takayama was their destination.

Tsuna had held true to his promise, he promised Primo to bring everyone home, and the easiest to find so far was Asari. The man had been buried in his home village, brought home by his children when his will wasn't clear. Those who either didn't know about his mafia ties or didn't think it was safe to approach the Vongola to lay the Rain to rest had sent him home.

The people of the town were pleasant, peaceful even.

It had taken almost two years to find Asari, Tsuna was officially Decimo, had his crest, had his sentinel. But he hadn't given up on bringing Primo home. While he had leads as to the whereabouts of most of the guardians except Lampo, Asari was the first to find.

Silence suddenly floated through the cemetery and Tsuna sighed with exasperation. Of course, it was too much to ask for half a minute of peace with Asari before his guardians got a little antsy.

Without a word, Tsuna let his flames flow through the cemetery, and like always his guardians slowly filtered closer. Drawn to him as they always were.

"Of course you found him first." Lambo huffed, always a little sour to lose a game.

Tsuna just laughed, looking to Kyouya with a soft smile. "Well, let's bring him home then. No use sitting around now you've found him, omnivore."

* * *

It had taken a lot of convincing, but it had been the eldest woman in the town who had finally seen it done. Tsuna and his guardians had spent their time in Takayama in her home, helping her with chores in place of food and board. And so, like all things, they had spoken.

"I'm here to bring someone home," Tsuna had explained to her one evening. "Though he was born here, I know his Will lies elsewhere, and he is missed very dearly."

She hadn't spoken much during their conversation, her 100 years of life giving her a beautiful listening ear but she had nodded along. So when Tsuna approached the town, explaining that they would be bringing an excavator into their little, ancient cemetery there was rebuff. There was more than rebuff, of course, outrage brewed in the little town as people felt threatened by these expensive outsiders. Tsuna grew desperate though, he had finally, finally found a guardian and he wanted to _bring him home_.

Until Aimi-baasan stood.

When she did the village turned silent, she was well respected, her family being one of the few to start the village so long ago. Her family remembered the histories well.

"They will come with their excavators." She declared, clearly. "They will respect the dead, but the Ugetsu family always moved around, and were never meant to remain here. We knew this when Asari returned."

And that was that.

A week and a half later found Tsuna on a plane, Asari's urn sitting in a gilded case on their private plane.

* * *

Tsuna invited the Guardians to Primo's catacomb when they arrived in Italy once again. The Ninth generation had long since stopped visiting the graves of their future, though Tsuna hoped perhaps they would return to see all of Primo's guardians come home.

All of his guardians were somber but unsurprised; though they didn't come with Tsuna often, they had each visited the Catacombs themselves, to remind themselves of the inevitability of death and the fight for Will. SO when they walked into the freezing sanctum, they stood at the door and let Tsuna approach the Rain guardian's statue.

Asari was stood with his sword over his shoulder, a laughing grin carved into the stone of his face, his eyes were on Giotto, even if his watch was dangling from the hilt of his sword. Impractical, Tsuna thought, but the aesthetic fit the man with the laughter lines.

Tsuna took the urn containing Asari's remains and placed it in the small alcove behind his statue. He stepped back and sat before the statue, his guardians without a word followed, sitting closer than they ever would outside this sacred space.

"Welcome home, Asari." Tsuna whispered, so gently it wouldn't have been heard with even the slightest breeze.

As it were, a giant gust brought fresh, warm air from outside and ruffled the guardians' hair until it swirled around the room. Feeling the pressure in the air, every guardian's will burned and changed their eyes to ethereal. Each guardian's irises were ignited with their will, and when they all looked to Asari they saw that he too finally had his flames back.

Pouring from his watch like a downfall of rain in the spring typhoons his flames seemed to sigh with relief, and even Daemon's seems to finally feel relief in the stagnant, lonely sanctum.

"We'll bring everyone home."

And Tsuna knew then, that every effort made would be worth the feeling of bringing Primo's Guardians home, even if Tsuna didn't complete the task until he was as ancient as Aimi-baasan.


	4. The End of an Era

The rain is hammering down on Tsuna as he stands before the Ninths Catacombs. Thunder was predicted for the night and early morning, but for now, the rains were sheets and needles in the late October chill. Tsuna had stopped crying hours ago when the architects and engineers had finished laying Sonia to rest.

The Ninth's Last Sentinel had taken her place, and with it, the catacomb had lit with flames, solidifying the Ninth's Will and how it burnt even in the face of a new generation. A generation that promised change and the end to everything Timoteo promised and worked for. Even still, with Tsuna's eyes burning amber in the eerie stormy gloom, Sonia looks on defiantly, dressed like Anthony in the military style uniform prefered by the Ninth generation squads. She looked directly at Tsuna, her hair whipping in the imaginary wind, holding her spear as it crossed Anthony's. Protecting the entrance, daring anyone with ill-will to enter. Darling anyone who doubted the Ninth's reign to try to look upon them.

It was awe inspiring. And all Tsuna could do was cry.

* * *

Tsuna was in France, he was a laughing twenty-six-year-old, following a lead on Alaude's resting place when the call comes in.

At a routine meeting with friends in Verona, the Ninth generation came under attack. While this in itself was usually not cause for too much alarm - the mafia, in general, is furious at the 'weakness' of the Vongola now that Tsuna has taken over, or they think that Tsuna is a figurehead only and that killing the Ninth will kill the Decimo too - this call is different.

Firstly, it's not one of the Ninth's guardians making the call, nor is it one of the Security force. It's Xanxus. Xanxus makes the call, his voice is thick, and the bond that he and Tsuna shares wavers just slightly before Tsuna answers the phone.

"The old man is gone. All of them are gone." He speaks, gruff, emotionless. To anyone else anyway. Tsuna would have thought this all an elaborate joke if not for the _feeling_ of flames across the receiver. Rage pales in comparison to the fury that Tsuna is aware of. His hair stands on end, his eyes sparkle, and his mouth goes dry.

"Kill them all. Let them know Vongola stands together."

Tsuna's guardians do not question it when Tsuna hangs up. They don't question it when he cries all night long. They don't question it when in the morning Tsuna keeps searching for Alaude.

They understand. There is nothing that Tsuna can do for Timoteo now, he is gone, and Xanxus his last remaining son has every right to take revenge. Not only as a son but as Vongola's official 'dirty work' organization.

Tsuna has other responsibilities. He has other duties. He has to grieve in his own way. Instead, they comfort him. They sleep in piles, they spar, they eat all their meals together without argument. They bring Alaude home.

* * *

Sonia, it turns out, was the last one to see the Ninth alive. She, while bleeding out, with broken ribs and a broken leg has worked her sun flames to excess to save the man's life. She had taken out half of the force that had attacked the Ninth's convoy.

During the battle, she had saved not only Coyote, but Brown Nie's lives. They had died ten minutes later in the explosion that killed everyone else. But she had died to save the Ninth's life and if she hadn't been bleeding out and exhausted no one in Vongola doubts that the Ninth would have survived the encounter.

Tsuna had been the one to decide who took the place of the Ninth's final sentinel. Usually, someone in the Ninth generation was alive to make the decision. But in one day alone, fifteen people were added to the Ninth's catacomb, and Sonia would be the last.

Tsuna had no doubts that he was not popular with the mansion staff. He would lose half the squads, half the staff, half the support. He was okay with that, the Varia and CEDEF together already had a force in place to enter the mansion upon the exodus. Vongola would be strong with the establishment of the Tenth generation.

* * *

Tsuna turned on his heel, walking away from Sonia and Anthony, and the Ninth generation that had finally been laid to rest and headed to Primo's Catacomb instead. It would be many month before Tsuna could walk into the Ninth's tomb to give his condolences. It was too fresh, the flames too new and too familiar right now.

For now, Tsuna would just do his duty, fulfil his promise to Primo and bring his guardians home. In his arms was a large, plain urn, decorated with clouds in thick lacquer. Someone was ready to est.

The guardians followed Tsuna closely, all sombre as the atmosphere shifted. The doors to Primos Catacomb slammed shut, cutting off the wind and rain. For a moment the guardians shivered, cold in the isolated stone empty of life.

Tsuna let his flames fill the void, warming the space and the souls that waited here for their boss' return. His will was sad, the flames rough with grief as they filled the hallways and rooms.

Tsuna said nothing as he walked to Alaude's statue. It was located at the end of the row, the opposite side to Daemon. The man was not laughing, as Asari and Lampo were, but he was smoothed out and relaxed like Daemon. His brow was smooth and his steady eyes were looking to Giotto, not for guidance or direction, but with a calm love that Tsuna is sure Giotto was the only one to ever see when the man was alive.

He placed the urn in the alcove behind the man, and sat on the floor before the guardians, his own guardians taking places around him, close and comforting.

Wind whipped around the room, rough and warm, buffering the guardians' bodies and clothes as it swirled and battled with the stagnation. With a small explosion of colour and light Alaude's pocket watch, sitting serenely in his left hand lit. With it a sense of relief and animosity. It felt all of a sudden more choking in the room, but also more relaxed. Now only four were missing, and Tsuna knew it would soon be none.

Standing, and lighting his ring with a will that burnt brighter now, it really sunk in that he was alone. No more mentorship from the generation before him. No more questions add answers. No more debates. No more arguments about the direction he was taking his famiglia.

Tsuna was alone. Vongola Decimo.

If there was any doubt before now that Tsuna was the true figurehead of the new Vongola, it would be slashed now that the entire Ninth generation was dead. And Tsuna let that sink in as the tears fell, like little drops of firelight they dripped on the floor.

"Welcome home, Alaude. My will is of the Family, and the Family welcomes you home."


End file.
